


John's Secret Job

by cyberpunkjpg



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Acting, Crack, Gen, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyberpunkjpg/pseuds/cyberpunkjpg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is Bilbo Baggins in the newest Hobbit movie! What happens when he finds out who plays Smaug?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Job

Bilbo crept silently through the mounds of gold coins and jewels. Smaug might be dozing, but he was a burglar, and burglars aren't noisy. 

A shower of coins cascaded down, revealing an eye of the beast. Thankfully, it was closed. Bilbo continued his tip-toeing through the wealth on his search for the Arkenstone. 

And then, a little ways off, the gold started to shift and slide some more, revealing a massive tail. Bilbo quickly slid on his ring. 

The massive eye opened as the whole beast began to slither through the gold. Bilbo ran lightly towards a pillar, pressing his back to it. 

"Well, thief," the dragon rumbled, a deep echoing rumble that shook Bilbo to the core.

"What the fuck?!" Bilbo yelled. 

"Cut!" 

There we groans and sighs as the crew moved to reset everything. 

 

The assistant director came over to Bilbo, who was still gaping at the green screen contraption that was supposed to be Smaug. 

"John-" 

"Who the fuck is doing the voice of the dragon?! Is he here?" 

"Um, yeah, it's some tall bloke. Never heard of 'em. Good voice though. He should be up in the sound room. Be back in ten minutes, mate." 

John Watson marched across set towards the sound room. He rolled his eyes as he came to the door, then pushed and swung it open. 

Sherlock Holmes sat in a rolling chair, feet propped up on a desk covered in sound panels and lights, with a microphone in hand and and smirk on his face. 

"Hello John," he said, smirk fully audible in those two little words. 

John started out with an angry "WHY-", but caught himself, taking a breath and smoothing his hands over air. 

He started over in the calmest voice he could muster. "Sherlock, what are you doing?" 

"Isn't it obvious? You know how I hate obvious questions," Sherlock sighed, swinging his feet off the desk and planting them on the ground. He put the mic on the desk. 

"I'm embracing my inner beast," he told John, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. 

"You don't need this-" John gestured around the room,"-to embrace your inner beast! You do that just fine anytime Anderson's around!"

Sherlock's smirk faltered at the mention of Anderson's name. 

"Seriously, Sherlock, what are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?"

A sculpted eyebrow almost shot off Sherlock's forehead, saying 'do you really want me to answer that? We both know I will, and one of us won't like it'.  
"Actually, don't answer that-"

"Really, John, I'm surprised at your doubt. If you thought you were doing a good job at hiding this hobby of yours, you clearly underestimate my skills.

"We've had a decent flow of revenue lately. Cases had been frequent but small. You only had a few shifts at the surgery, and those also were small. Our incomes combined was enough to pay for bills, groceries, but certainly not enough for you to buy the most expensive brand of toothpaste at Tesco, the penny pincher you are. At fist I thought it was a small indulgence for a good week, but the new tea you bought was also not your usual cheap one, as was the jam and the laundry detergent. What could have brought on all these expenses? A boost in income, yes, but again, not something we had at the moment. My conclusion: you had a secret source of pay. It didn't take me long to figure out where you went, when didn't go to your shift like you told me you were. Clever, deleting your browsing and call history. But useless." 

John just sighed, "So why are you voicing the dragon? I'm hoping not just for dramatically revealing that you found me out. These are actual jobs, you know, for an actual movie that thousands are going to see." 

"I'm not an idiot, I know what I'm doing. I wanted this job. I don't have a case. I figured we could use the money, considering your expensive toothpaste and such." 

"Just great," John muttered.


	2. Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smaug's rumble is having a very interesting effect on John...

John and and Sherlock continued their roles in The Desolation of Smaug. They rarely saw each other, John always on screen and Sherlock just doing voice work when he wanted, in between cases of course. John had no idea why no one pitched a fit at that, but he suspected a certian postition in the British government. 

Still, the few times they played Sherlock's modified rumble, John grew a little warmer and his trousers pulled a little tighter. He was glad he was usually absorbed in portraying Bilbo, otherwise he'd probably be tenting in his pants and it'd be rather embarrasing. 

He found himself feeling uncomfortable and a little horrified at first, that he should get turned on by his flatemate's voice, and especially his sociopath, homicide-enthusiast flatemate. After a conversation with himself about it, he decided that probably everone in the room was a little aroused by Sherlock's voice, and who could blame them? It was deep, velvety and smooth, very much like the silk black boxer breifs that come up in the wash when John does laundry. 

So now, he deems it acceptable to occasionally lose himself in Sherlock's voice, most of the time when he's off on a rant about being bored of how terrible the police force is, or why he can't use the oven for experiment storage.


	3. Wank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has some private time in the shower.

The first time John jerked off to Sherlock's voice was one fine evening in the shower. He had been shown an almost-finished scene of him and Smaug that morning, and had tried to remember every delectable syllable that Sherlock/Smaug had growled out. It had been tough getting through the day with _that_ swimming around in his head. He was glad he wore trousers that were a bit big on him. 

The steady stream of water was hot against his back. John teased himself with a hand through the blond hair at his groin, and started to think of Smaug's lines. 

_I smell you. I hear your breath..._

John took his thickening cock in hand, pumping slow and firm. When he was fully hard, he switched to faster, lighter strokes, using his right hand to brace himself against the wall. 

_Come now, don't be shy._

He stroked faster as snippets of Smaug's velvet rumble flew through his thoughts.

_I am fire, I am death._

John hastily tugged on his cock, trying to tip himself over the edge before the images of Smaug and Sherlock and the sound of their voice still fresh in his memory went away.

He imagined Sherlock groaning his name out. _John, ohhhh...John...._

He finally spilled all over his hand, biting his lip to stifle moans. 

 

It was a good wank, he decided as he turned off the water.


	4. Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock convinces John to join him on a case.

"Aren't you done with voicing Smaug?" John asked Sherlock on set one day, after he had spied the raven locks among the crew.

Sherlock frowned, "I also did the motion capture, John, and I'm here because Lestrade has a case and I'll be needing your assistance."

"I can't just run off, we're about to do a scene!"

"How unfortunate. I guess I'll have to handle it on my own, then," Sherlock said with an exaggerated sigh.

John was relieved he wouldn't have to run off in his Bilbo costume.

"Yes, well-"

Sherlock cut him off with another sigh,"And I suppose I'll have to handle this-" he opened the side of his coat to reveal the inside of it, "-on my own, too."

With that, he closed his coat with a flourish and stalked off.

John huffed.  
John started after him.  
John ignored the questioning looks he got from the crew.  
John was running off in his Bilbo costume.

Inside Shelock's coat was John's gun.


	5. Giggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to take a walk through the Yarders' offices.

The taxi driver didn't notice John's unusual attire, only the large amount of bills John threw at him in his haste to get in Scotland Yard and out of public viewing.

They started making their way to Lestrade's upstairs office and John was now considering going back outside. A muffled snort or snicker came from almost every desk they passed. John pulled his blue coat tighter around himself, and mentally thanked whoever was listening that he hadn't needed the prosthetic feet for filming today.

The second they passed Sgt. Donavan, she lost it. John-excuse me, _Bilbo_ rolled his eyes as she clutched her stomach and wiped tears of laughter from her face.

Sherlock's face was unreadable, eyes darting around, focused on the case and most likely deducing what kind of coffee everyone had that morning from the dust on their keyboards or something. John wished he would walk a little faster, as if they weren't practically sprinting already.

John trudged into the elevator with Sherlock in tow and Donnavan's giggles still in the background. As soon has the doors closed, let out a loud breath through his nose, accompanied by a quiet 'bloody hell'.

"I should've changed out of this bef-"

"You're fine, John," Sherlock snapped, "You're fully capable of aiding me in your current attire, are you not? And if you're worried about your bruised ego, don't be. You barely have one to begin with."

The elevator doors opened and Sherlock scurried out, straight across to Lestrade's office.


End file.
